


The Third Wheel

by MaxWrite



Category: British Actor RPF, Harry Potter RPF
Genre: M/M, POV First Person, RPF, Threesome, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-21
Updated: 2007-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxWrite/pseuds/MaxWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“I thought James liked me. I don’t know what I did wrong. But I can’t just write him off. I’m in love with his brother, and James is the most important person in the world to Oliver.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Third Wheel

When I first started dating Oliver, James and I got along fine. For a few weeks there, James didn’t seem to have much problem with me. In fact, he even seemed to consider me a friend.

A month into Oliver’s and my courtship, the twins had to go to America for the _Order of the Phoenix_ premiere. Oliver and I e-mailed each other nearly everyday. Oliver missed me. I missed him. During the twins’ trip, Oliver and I made the decision to be exclusive.

They arrived home on a Friday afternoon, and I met them at the airport. The smile on Oliver’s face when he saw me, the warmth in his eyes, just made me want to melt. I resisted the urge, however, and gave him the manliest hug I could muster. When he pulled away I noticed him glance around, as though he thought maybe someone might be looking at us funny. I don’t think anyone was, but I certainly understood his nervousness.

“We’re just two best mates hugging in an airport,” I said. “That’s not weird. Nobody cares. Hi, James.” I smiled big at his brother. “How was your trip?”

“Great,” said James, not looking at me, concentrating on adjusting the strap of his carry-on instead. “And Oliver’s right. You should be a bit more careful about hugging so much in public.”

“I’m sorry?” I frowned. “Why?”

“Well, it does look a little gay.” He finally looked at me and smiled. “Thanks for picking us up, eh.” And he gave me a slightly too hard clap on the back as he walked on past me. I watched him walk away, confused. When I looked back at Oliver, he was frowning slightly, his eyes searching his brother’s retreating back.

“Well, let’s go then before we lose him,” he said. We went after James, trying to catch up, weaving through the impatient crowd.

 

* * *

I swear I heard James ask Oliver how long I’d be staying at their place. He must’ve thought I was out of earshot, but I don’t see how. He’d seen me on the sofa as he’d passed by into the kitchen, and he wasn’t speaking softly.

Oliver replied, but I couldn’t hear, as he’d had the sense to whisper. Though, a few whispers later, I did hear Oliver hiss, “What is your problem?” At which point James’s long legs proceeded to carry him from the area. I wanted to go after him, ask him what I’d done, but I just sat there, watching his back as he sped away. And as he turned to mount the stairs, his face turned enough for him to see me, eyes landing squarely on mine, searing holes into my brain as he ascended. Barely a second of eye contact and I felt utterly decimated.

I shrank, hunching over my lap, eyes falling to floor. Oliver emerged and approached me. I was so worried and upset by James’s attitude, I felt heavy and sluggish, like I was entirely filled with mud. Oliver was seated next to me before I found the strength to look up at him.

“I guess you heard some of that,” he said. “I’m really sorry, baby. You shouldn’t have heard that at all.” His arm came up and around my back, pulled me close, and he kissed the side of my head.

“That’s okay,” I heard myself say.

“Ignore him. He just wants attention.”

“Really? That’s all?”

“Yeah. He gets like that sometimes.”

I finally looked around at him. “But why? There must be a reason.”

“Who knows? It’s James. He can be, you know, moody and … childish.”

I could tell that talking about his brother this way did not come easily to him, even if he was speaking the truth. The words almost seemed to be getting caught in his throat.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Don’t … Just forget it.”

“Well, no, it’s not okay, he” –

“Oliver.” I finally managed a smile, turned a bit toward him and took his hand. “It’s okay. He’ll be gone soon. We’ll have a nice dinner together.” I kissed his mouth. “We’ll make love.” I kissed him again, a bit longer this time. “And we’ll forget all about what just happened, okay?”

He relented, smiling softly at me, pressing his nose to mine, eyes so liquid dark and deep I could’ve fallen right into them. He kissed me, arms snaking around my waist and pulling me in, his lips parting mine. My hand cradled the back of his neck while my other hand went up into his hair, gripping and clutching the silky strands. My body began to react, a hardness growing between my legs. I wanted to go searching for his hardness, let my hand wander down until it found that responding firmness inside his jeans.

But I resisted, as we were in the living room. It’s a good thing I did, too, because a moment later a voice muttered “Again? Jeez,” as it went on past us. We stopped kissing and looked around just in time to see James’s profile disappearing into the kitchen. Oliver sighed heavily and looked apologetically at me.

“Forget it,” I said.

“No. This is ridiculous. I don’t even know what he’s so angry about.”

“No idea at all? He gave you no indication while you were in America? On the plane ride back maybe?”

“No, nothing.” Another heavy sigh, and then, “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

“You sure?” I asked as he stood and gently pulled me up by my hand. “I mean maybe I should try to talk to him.”

“No, no. We need to finish what we started.” He leaned in to press his lips to mine once more before turning and tugging me along toward the staircase. I let him tug me, and I wondered if I was falling in love with him.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as we walked together. I think it often seems that way when you’re falling in love. He turned his head round to look at me over his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. I smiled back, giggled even. I couldn’t help it.

As he looked away, his eyes stopped on something off to his right. We were passing by the kitchen’s entrance at that very moment and I saw his expression change, the smile fade away. I followed his gaze and saw that James was at the fridge, his lanky form bent over as he pulled out a long-necked bottle. He glanced at his twin as he straightened up, his face expressionless and as still as stone.

He shut the fridge, and the sound made me realise that Ollie and I had stopped moving. James was pretending to be oblivious to our presence, leaning back against the countertop, twisting off his beer bottle cap and taking a long drink.

“You go on up,” Oliver said to me. “I’ll be right there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you go on and get ready.” He grinned at me.

“And by ‘ready’ you mean ‘naked’, right?”

“You know it.” He leaned in and bestowed a kiss upon my forehead. “I’ll be up in a bit.” At that he pulled away and turned toward his brother. My hand slipped from his and I walked away, continued on toward the stairs. I slowed as I approached them, stepped up onto the first step and stopped completely. I was still within earshot of the kitchen, but couldn’t see the twins anymore, which meant they couldn’t see me either. There I stayed. And listened.

“I told you he was staying for the long weekend,” said Oliver. “You said it was fine.”

“It is fine.”

“Clearly, it isn’t. James, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Oliver, there is no problem. He’s great. He’s perfect for you. You’re an adorable couple.”

“Okay, see, that right there is hostility.”

“No, it’s not,” James insisted with an odd little laugh. “Go on upstairs and have sex.”

“We weren’t going to have sex.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise at that. There was silence in the kitchen, during which I imagined James was giving Oliver a much deserved disbelieving look.

“Just go,” said James. “Jon’s coming to pick me up any minute, so I’ll be out of your hair. You two can have a lovely evening together.”

A pause, and then, sounding defeated, Oliver said, “All right. Have fun tonight. Be careful, don’t drink too much.”

I was scurrying up the stairs before I could hear James’s reply, rushing into Oliver’s bedroom, closing the door and ripping my clothes off. When Oliver came in, I was under his covers, waiting for him.

“Hope everything’s okay,” I said.

“Oh, I don’t know what his problem is. He won’t tell me.”

“Come here.” I patted the bed. He came and sat down, and I got up on my knees behind him and began to undress him, pulling his shirt up over his head.

“What gets me,” he said, raising his arms for me, “is he seemed fine during our whole trip. We even talked about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. He said he thinks you’re funny.”

I guided him down onto his back and started on his jeans. “I think he’s funny, too,” I said as I pulled out his cock. He was only half hard, but I took care of that. I began to work the semi-soft flesh in my fist, gently massaging his foreskin up and down while I licked at the head and rubbed it between my lips. My free hand cradled and played with his balls.

“Mmm,” he moaned. I felt his large hand on the back of my head. Not pushing me down; he’d never do that. It just rested there, petted me as I began to suck. It’s silly, but as many times as I’d already had his dick in my mouth, I still couldn’t help but think, _Holy shit! I’m sucking a Weasley!_ Which would always make me giggle just a bit, which, in turn, would prompt him to ask me what was so funny. I never told him, of course. I’d just use my excellent mouth/hand coordination to make him forget all about my giggle. And he always did.

“Oh, yeah,” he whispered, gripping my hair. His length had quickly become full in my mouth. I let his breathing guide me, increasing my speed as he began to pant. His balls began to tighten up in my hand. It wouldn’t be long now, and I was growing more and more excited at the thought of him coming in my mouth once again.

A car horn honked and Oliver seemed to tense up a bit. I stepped up my efforts and he quickly relaxed again. But then we heard the front door slam, then a car door, and then the sound of wheels peeling out of the driveway.

“If Jon’s been drinking, I swear to god …” he muttered, tense once again. His length softened a bit. _No, no, no,_ I thought, pumping him with my fist and lapping at him hungrily.

“Was it that you came to get us at the airport?” he asked. “Why would that upset him?”

It was no use. I stopped sucking and sat up. “There’s nothing you can do about it. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

“Yeah, but … I hate it when we fight.”

“Well, this is hardly a fight. I think he’s more angry with me than with you.”

He glanced at me, frowning slightly. “You don’t get it,” he said dejectedly and looked back up at the ceiling.

I sighed and moved back up next to him, cuddling up to him. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s a twin thing. When we fight I feel all … off.”

“I know. I’ve seen how close you two are. Listen, let’s figure out dinner, yeah? I’ll even cook for you.”

He looked at me, raised an eyebrow. “You cook?”

“When the mood strikes me.”

 

* * *

I proved my claim and did make us dinner late that night: pasta with veggies and a simple salad. He wrinkled his nose and asked, “Where’s the meat?”

I smiled coyly and replied, “You don’t get that till after dinner.”

We ate from one plate, snuggled on the couch together, feeding each other and getting slightly tipsy on too much beer. By the end of dinner, he’d completely forgotten about his fight with James. He set our dinner things aside and pulled me up on top of him, making me straddle him, his big hands on my waist.

“I believe I was promised something a little more substantial than vegetables if I finished all mine. And I have.”

“You’re right,” I whispered, my hands going to my jeans, unfastening them, reaching inside and pulling myself out. “And here it is. All big and hard for you.”

He stared down at my erection, moved one of his hands to it and gripped it. “Fuck, you’re so hard,” he whispered. He looked back up at me with sleepy, bedroom eyes, slid his free hand up my chest, gripped my shirt, pulled my face closer to his and said, “I want it in my mouth. Now.”

I began to slide off him, trying to switch positions with him so he could slide down and do as he pleased with me. I was wrapping my legs around him when the front door unlocked and opened with a squeak. We froze, eyes going immediately toward the entrance to the living room which led from the front hall. James appeared there in short order, eyeing us with disdain.

“Still?” he said, turning toward the kitchen. “Do you two ever come up for air?”

“Shit,” I muttered. “He’s home early.”

“I know,” Oliver sighed and hung his head. “It’s okay. He’s not going to ruin our evening. Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

I zipped up and followed him upstairs, once again unable not to notice the way his eyes went right to his twin as we passed the kitchen. This was quickly forgotten, however, as we undressed each other in his bedroom. He laid me down and hovered over me, between my legs, his erection grazing mine as we kissed. He nibbled his way down my body to my crotch, promptly taking me in his mouth, a finger venturing further down, between my cheeks, finding my hole and gently massaging it. I pulled my legs back so he could get at me better, and he slid a wet finger inside me, stroking at my prostate and loosening me up.

Finally, he came up and loomed over me again. His long form elongated even more to reach over to the nightstand. I watched his slender fingers roll a condom down his length. Then he braced himself on one hand while his other hand slicked lube down his shaft, and he kissed me, tongue probing deep, as he positioned himself. My body clenched a bit when I felt him nudging against me, and I groaned into his mouth as he began to push inside.

There in the dark, surrounded by him, filled up with him, I had the strangest thought: the two of us there, just like that, all curled up together in a dark little world all our own that was almost womb-like with the darkness pressing in on us on all sides, compressing our world, making it just big enough for us. I thought of him and James in utero, and for a moment I imagined that it was I, not James, who’d been with him then, who shared his DNA, who’d grown with him and shared everything with him from day one, who was so connected to him, he couldn’t pass by me without looking at me, couldn’t just let it go if I was upset.

He pumped deep inside me, panting, making me pant, too, our open mouths close enough to occasionally bump, to exchange air, our breath commingling, almost as though we were feeding each other, providing each other some kind of sustenance. In that moment, there was only him and I, and I did feel connected. So connected that soon I felt words bubbling up from my chest, very specific words, three very simple, yet very dangerous words.

“I love you,” I breathed up at him. The words just came out of me like air, just floated on up like a soft moan. But unlike a moan, they seemed to make everything come to halt. He slowed down some at first, then came to a complete stop and just stared at me. Not staring _into_ me, as I felt he had been doing just a moment before, but staring _at_ me, as though I was some strange species of insect there on his pillow.

We hung there like that – him buried inside me, blinking down at me, a deer in headlights, and me with my legs suspended on either side of him, frozen, my words echoing in my head – for what felt like forever, until something brought us both back, a soft knocking sound. Oliver twisted his head round to glance at the door.

“What does he want?” I whispered, half-annoyed and half-grateful for the distraction.

“I dunno,” he groaned as he withdrew. “Hang on!” he called. He quickly pulled the covers over me and padded across the room to the door. He opened it just a bit, peeking around it, hiding his naked body behind it. “What?” I heard him say. I couldn’t hear James’s answer. All I could make out was the soft murmur of his voice.

“We’re kind of in the middle of something here,” said Oliver. “No … James, you’re drunk.”

“Well, I know _that!”_ It was the first thing I heard James say. “It was a blast tonight. You shoulda come with.”

I sat up in disbelief. What the hell was he playing at? He had to know what he’d interrupted. I moved to the foot of the bed so I could hear better.

“If it was such a blast, why’d you come home so early?”

“You sound like you don’t want me here.” I could practically hear the pout in James’s voice just then.

“Well, can you blame me? This is an extremely bad time.”

“Oh, yeah? … You naked?” I raised my eyebrows at that, at the words and at the suddenly more intimate tone of James’s voice.

“Of course I’m naked.”

“And he’s naked, too?”

“James” –

“Can I come in?”

There was dead silence then. I was trying to figure out if I’d heard James correctly. I think Oliver was doing the same thing.

“What?”

“Can I come in?”

“Are you joking?”

“No. Please?” James purred. “We’re twins. We’re supposed to share everything, aren’t we?”

“Look, James, I don’t know what you’re doing, but – Hey!”

I think James tried to touch him. Oliver jumped back about a foot, still clinging to the door and pulling it open enough for James to see into the room, for his and my eyes to meet. He gave me a lopsided grin and stepped inside. Now I was the deer in headlights. I looked to Oliver to help guide me, tell me what to do. He was still clinging to the door as though it was a life preserver. When our eyes met, he gave me a weak little shrug and looked down. I couldn’t believe it. He was actually allowing his brother to join us.

“Sorry I was such a prick before,” said James. He stumbled slightly as he reached the bed and plopped down next to me. I clutched the covers closer to my body.

“Er, that’s all right. Um, James, what are you doing? We were kind of” –

– “fucking each other’s brains out. Yeah, I know. ’S all right. Ollie and I like to share things.”

He touched my thigh and I froze. What to do, what to do. On one hand, this was awfully rude and presumptuous of James. Yes, he was clearly drunk, but what _did_ he think he was doing? On the other hand, I was a little intrigued, and Oliver didn’t seem to be protesting. In fact, seeing that James seemed to be serious about this, Oliver had done a complete one-eighty, coming over and calmly sitting on my other side. I took note of how comfortable he suddenly was showing his naked body to his twin.

“Do you want to?” Oliver asked me.

“You mean … with James?” I leaned in and whispered that as though James wouldn’t hear. He must have heard, of course, but he waited patiently on my left, massaging my thigh.

“Yeah. Do you?”

“Do you want me to want to?”

“Um … would it bother you if I thought it might be kinda hot?”

“Hot? You think being with your brother would be hot?”

“Watching him with you, yeah. Is that weird?”

“Well …” I didn’t get a chance to finish my reply or even fully form it in my mind. James’s fingers touched my chin and gently turned my face back around toward himself. Before I knew it, he’d leaned in and was kissing me, his tongue sliding in deep.

“Wait, James, stop,” I protested, turning my face away. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

He snorted. “I’m not that drunk.”

“He might have a point,” Oliver said to him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

James smiled softly at his twin and replied in a husky voice, “I’m sure.” And at that he came at me again, this time full force. His hand found my waist and began pushing the covers off me. Next thing I knew, he was gripping my cock.

His hands felt just like his brother’s. His kiss was similar as well, only rougher. I suspected the alcohol was responsible for some of that roughness. I allowed him to nudge me back up toward the pillows where I lay on my back, propped up on my elbows. He straightened up, on his knees, between my legs, shrugged off his button-down shirt, yanked off his t-shirt and promptly started on his jeans. My eyes were glued to that, to his large hands fumbling with his button. I could already see it: him peeling back the folds of the denim to reveal himself to me, showing me that he and Oliver were still very much identical in certain places.

“Heh, shite,” he chuckled. He was having a bit of trouble. “Fucking hole was always too small on this pair.”

“I got it,” said Oliver, and to my shock and fascination he moved over next to James, reached over with both hands and popped James’s button out for him. He even pulled the zipper down.

“Thanks, bro,” James said silkily, looking at Oliver with a soft, appreciative smile, which Oliver returned. For a moment I was intensely jealous. There was that twin connection, clear as day, right there in their eyes, those eyes locked on each like laser beams in the dark. I wasn’t sure Oliver had ever looked at me like that.

James then proceeded to do exactly what I’d imagined him doing. He folded back the denim, reached inside his underwear and pulled out his cock. My breath caught in my throat. Even with only faint moonlight by which to see, it was clear to me that he looked exactly like his brother.

I must’ve been gawking as he slowly stroked up and down his length, displaying himself for me. “You want that?” I picked my jaw up off my chest and looked up into his eyes. I did want that. I wanted it very badly. Was that wrong, I wondered? This was my boyfriend’s brother.

Oliver got up beside him again and leaned close to whisper, “Wanna fuck him?” As he spoke he seemed to be rubbing the small of James’s back in little circles. James turned to look at Oliver, and I swore they were about to kiss, their mouths were so close.

“Yeah,” James replied, and Oliver sprung into action. He moved quickly, grabbing condom and lube from nightstand. James took the condom and began fiddling with it, but gave up after a few seconds. “Having a bit of trouble here,” he admitted, and I thought, _No. They wouldn’t._

But they would. Oliver took it from him, ripped it open, tossed the wrapper and began to roll the condom onto his brother’s erection.

I was gawking again. Clearly I’d fallen into some kind of Twilight Zone. I was in such shock, I almost didn’t notice how completely and utterly horny this entire scene was making me. My dick was practically throbbing as Oliver’s skilful hand slicked lubricant up his brother’s shaft. James let his head fall back as Oliver did this, moaning softly. So, there it was; an actual acknowledgment of the fact that this was sexually pleasing to him, even though it was his twin doing it to him. And Oliver didn’t bat an eyelash. In fact, the dark silhouette of his cock seemed to twitch a bit in response to that moan.

I was finally starting to wonder what exactly was going on here.

But before that thought could go any further, I found myself with my boyfriend’s very randy twin brother hovering over me, forcing me to lie down completely.

“That’s it, love,” Oliver whispered to me. “Now just … that’s it.” He’d situated himself next to me, on my right, took hold of my leg, just behind the knee, gently pulled it back and held it there. James gripped the left one and pushed it back as well. “There you go,” Oliver whispered. “Ready, baby?”

“Yeah,” I said, and frowned slightly as I realised that James had said ‘yeah’, too, in unison with me. But I didn’t have time to really become paranoid about that, because James was pushing into me a second later.

And everything was completely forgotten. I think I forgot my own name. This wasn’t lovemaking. There would be no accidental blurting out of something stupid, like “I love you”, in the middle of this. I couldn’t even form words as James hammered away at me. The boy was fucking me senseless.

“It’s good, yeah?” Oliver whispered in my ear. “It’s okay. You can touch him.” And he took my hand, which I’d glued firmly to the bed at my side, partially to hold on for dear life once James had got going, and partially because I was indeed afraid to touch James. I still felt strange about him being Oliver’s brother, even though he was already inside me. Oliver placed my hand on the small of James’s back. It was slightly damp with sweat. My other hand followed suit of its own accord. James seemed to like being touched like this, as he groaned contentedly.

He lowered his torso until he was lying directly on top of me and placed his mouth at my left ear. “Yeah, you love it hard, don’t you?” he growled.

“Don’t be afraid to get into it,” Oliver murmured in my right ear. “Show him how much you like it.”

“That’s right. Let me hear you scream.”

“It’s okay to let it out.”

I had been restraining myself, forgetting that I no longer needed to worry about making too much noise, as everyone in the house was currently in that room. Also, I was hesitant to show Oliver how much I was enjoying having sex with his twin. But I couldn’t hold back any longer when James gripped my left leg again and pushed it back even further.

“Do the other one,” he instructed his brother, and Oliver obeyed, pulling the other leg back as far as it would go. I was opened up as wide as I’d ever been, and James started thrusting even harder. I screamed.

James absolutely loved this. He attacked my neck with rough, wet kisses and bites, growling against my throat.

“He’s going to come soon,” Oliver whispered. “You want him to come?”

“Yes!” I cried. I could have let this go on forever, but I was also very eager to watch and feel James come.

“Oh, yeah, oh, yeah,” James started to chant as his climax drew nearer. He pushed up on his elbows, and I could see his face again, see the expression of helpless ecstasy there. His thrusts slowed a bit, his cock gave a wonderful little jerk inside me, and he was coming.

And I was rewarded with another lovely display of brotherly affection as Oliver, his eyes glued to his brother, released my leg and stroked James’s hair as James came. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

James collapsed on top of me. Oliver lay there next to us, his front pressed to our sides, stroking James’s sweaty back and cooing at both of us. I turned my face and found his mouth with mine. And in that quiet moment, almost completely surrounded by these beautiful men, by their heat, covered by them, protected by them, something pierced through the afterglow, one thought, one tiny, niggling thought, shattering everything, destroying my inner calm: _He didn’t say it back._ That was it. Oliver hadn’t said ‘I love you’ back to me. He’d jumped at the chance for a distraction, was all too willing to leave my ‘I love you’ hanging there, unaddressed, unaccepted, and probably unwanted.

James finally rolled off me with a groan. He regarded us both with a sleepy, dopey, satisfied smile. I relaxed my legs and wondered what to do next. Was it okay to initiate a kiss with him? Would it be rude not to? Should I have kissed him first? Does one kiss the person who just fucked him before the other person in a threesome, even though the other is the steady boyfriend? Or does one always pay attention to the boyfriend first? Is there such a thing as threesome etiquette? Had a _Threesomes for Dummies_ been written yet?

James was having no such problems figuring it out. He touched my stomach, caressed me there, as he murmured to his twin, “Did you have a chance to” –

“Nah. You interrupted,” said Oliver with a smile. I assumed they were talking about climaxing. Oliver hadn’t done so before James had shown up. “Ready for another round?” Oliver asked me, his hand also idly stroking my skin.

“Sure,” I said. There was some shifting and soft chatter as Oliver changed his condom. He then nudged me onto my side, facing James, and snuggled up behind me. I felt him grip himself and slide the lubricated head of his cock up between my cheeks, seeking my opening. I assisted by arching my body and lifting my top leg a bit. James took hold of that leg, pressed his body to mine and laid my leg over himself, gripping my thigh.

“You in?” James asked.

“Yeah,” Oliver moaned, sliding all the way inside. As he started to thrust, he moved his hand around to my belly, then down to wrap around my cock, but James stopped him.

“Let me,” James whispered, letting my leg go and nudging Oliver’s hand out of the way. I moaned as James began to stroke my length, but my mouth was promptly plugged up by James’s tongue. His fist tightened and moved faster on my dick as his tongue went deeper, as his mouth forced mine open almost to the point of discomfort.

And then there was Oliver’s deep husk of a voice in my ear. “Come,” he demanded. “I wanna feel you explode.”

I was locked tight between the twins, filled up with them, getting fucked on both ends. My body didn’t need to be told to come, but the sound of Oliver commanding me that way just about sent me over the edge. I grabbed onto James, digging my nails into his back, quivering with pleasure.

“Come on,” James whispered. “Drench me with it.”

And that was it. I was gone. Oliver wasn’t far behind. I felt him jerk inside me, heard his breathing change. My cries were muffled by James’s mouth, the shaking of my body buffered by both of them.

I lay there panting at the end of it, their warm breath wafting over my face and caressing the back of my neck, hands on my damp skin and cradling my spent cock. My eyes were closed, and I was a little afraid to open them. It was James I was going to see first, and I was already feeling a bit guilty for enjoying doing this with him so much. Oliver came to my rescue, however, when he turned my face up, leaned over me and kissed me. I opened my eyes and smiled up at him when our lips parted.

“Well, I should leave you alone,” said James. He grunted as he sat up. His soft prick was still hanging outside his jeans as he cast about for his shirts. I felt like I should say something, that _someone_ should say something. Again I wondered what was customary in this situation; a ‘thank you’? A ‘let’s do this again sometime’? And again I was relieved of the burden of figuring it out by Oliver, who rolled out of bed and helped James find his shirts in the dark.

“Thanks,” said James. He stood and zipped up and donned his button-down shirt, holding the t-shirt in his hand.

“You don’t have to go right away,” said Oliver.

“No, no. I shouldn’t have come in in the first place.”

I resisted the urge to ask if he’d just figured that out.

“So … are we okay?” asked Oliver, his voice sounding a bit uncertain.

“Yeah, sure.” James replied with a smile, and he smacked Oliver’s arm with his t-shirt. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He then turned to look down at me, smiled and waved. “Later.” And at that, he slid past Oliver, walked away and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

“Well, that was … bizarre,” I said when I was sure he was out of earshot.

Oliver got back into bed, pulled the covers up over us and pulled me into a warm cuddle. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I said, deliberately nonchalantly. “You?”

“Sure. It was nice.”

“You seemed to warm up to the idea pretty quickly.”

“Yeah … We could do it again if you ever wanted to.”

I didn’t reply right away. I lay there in his arms wondering if doing it again would be such a good idea, wondering how this first time would affect our relationship, and wondering why exactly he was offering this to me at all. “Have you, um, ever done that with him before?” I finally asked.

“No – well, I mean not exactly.”

“What’s that mean?”

He took a deep breath. “We’ve … done stuff.”

“Oh. Often?”

“Well … occasionally.”

“When was the last time?”

He hesitated, then said, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to keep things from you, but I’m not really … comfortable” –

“No, it’s okay,” I interrupted. “Forget I asked. I shouldn’t have.”

“We were always safe, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s okay, never mind.”

A long, tense silence followed. My mind could quite easily see the two of them together and provided a little show for me as I lay there in his arms. It was very beautiful, actually. I scolded myself for the little twinge of jealousy that tugged at my gut.

“Do you two ever talk about it?” I asked. I couldn’t let the subject drop.

“What?”

“The sex. Do you ever discuss what you do together?”

“What we _did_ together,” he corrected me. “And no, not really.”

“How come? You’re obviously not afraid to acknowledge it. You’ve admitted it to me. Is it he who has the problem talking about it?”

“No. I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Have you ever tried to talk to him afterward?”

“No.”

In my mind I saw Oliver reaching over to stroke James’s hair as James came while buried inside me. I’d thought that moment had been the sweetest thing I’d ever seen. Now it just unsettled me.

“Maybe you should,” I said. “Talk about it, I mean.”

“Why?”

“Because. Ollie, is there something between you two that I should know about?”

“How can you ask me that?”

“I’m sorry. I just think it’s important that we clear this up now. I’ve a right to know, I think.”

“Of course there isn’t anything between us. For god’s sake, he’s my brother.”

“That apparently hasn’t stopped you from messing around with him.”

He pulled away from me, rolled onto his back and sighed. “Why are we talking about this? I thought you had a good time.”

“I did. And so did you. You had a _really_ good time.” I regretted that last the moment I said it.

He looked over at me. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Are you accusing me of something?”

“No, no, I’m not. I’m sorry. This is silly.” I snuggled up to him again, laying my head on his chest. “Let’s just go to sleep.”

I thought back to the things I’d been wondering about before, after he’d suggested we could do it again if I wanted. I’d gotten my answers, I thought. In the back of my mind it was there, in my heart I could feel the truth. I didn’t want to accept it, of course. I just wondered how long I could ignore it.

 

* * *

When I woke, there was dim, gray morning light seeping through the blinds. I sat up slowly and slinked out of bed, careful not to wake Oliver. I pulled on a pair of his sweatpants and slipped out of the room into the dark hallway. There was a weak, gray shaft of light slicing through the gloom out there, too. It was coming from James’s room, the door partially open. From where I stood I could see a bare leg hanging over the side of the bed. He seemed to be out cold.

I went to the bathroom, then headed downstairs to make myself some tea. As I sat waiting for the water to boil, I realised this was the first time I’d gotten out of bed before Oliver. I usually waited for him to wake up, too.

The kettle whistled, and I was about to stand when James walked into the kitchen. I sat there in a ready-to-stand-up sort of position, my hands on the table, poised to help push me up. I’d frozen. James, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to this as he stood there in the doorway, yawning and rubbing a hand over his tousled hair, then jamming the heel of that hand into his eye socket. He finally noticed me and smiled sleepily.

“Oh, hello,” he said, his voice dry and raspy. He scratched at his bare belly and went to the fridge. “Water’s done.”

“What? Oh!” I’d completely blocked out the high-pitched whining of the kettle. I sprung up from my seat and went to shut it off. “Um, you want some?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

As I made tea, he pulled leftover pizza from the fridge and brought it to the table where he dropped into a chair and began eating.

“You sleep well?” he asked with a mouthful.

“Oh, uh, yeah. You?”

“Passed out soon as I hit the bed.”

“I’m surprised you’re not hungover.”

“Nah. That almost never happens to me.”

“Good.” I set his cup in front of him and took a seat next to him. “So, where’d you go last night?”

“The usual. Wild night. You and Ol shoulda come.”

“Well, we’d already planned to stay in, so … You did come home earlier than we expected, though.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. It’s not that I wasn’t having fun. I just … I dunno, really. I just wanted to come home, I guess.”

“Well, that’s sweet.”

He chuckled. “I don’t do sweet. Though I guess I did sort of miss my brother.”

“Really? You had him mostly to yourself in the US, didn’t you?”

“Yup,” he replied, fixing me with a penetrating stare. “Yeah, I did.”

After a few seconds, I looked away and shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Eager to change the subject, I cleared my throat and said, “Rather interesting night after you came back home, too, huh?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, that. Hope you didn’t mind too much.”

“No, it was nice. I’m just a little confused. You sort of showed up out of nowhere.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I guess the mood just struck me,” he said with a shrug.

I nodded. “Oliver didn’t seem to mind. You two seemed really comfortable in that situation together.”

“Yeah, well, we’re twins, right? We’ve always been comfortable with each other’s bodies.”

“Yeah, but, I mean if you’ve never done the threesome thing together before, you’d think you’d be a bit nervous about it.”

“Well, I was drunk off my arse,” he chuckled. “Nothing was going to bother me. Oh, by the way, can you not mention this whole thing to any of our friends? It’s kinda private.”

“Of course. I wasn’t going to anyway.”

“Cool.” He started on a second pizza slice, making half of it disappear in one bite, and gave his inner thigh a little scratch, just underneath the hem of his boxers.

“Do your friends know that you’re attracted to men?”

He stopped chewing and scratching and looked at me. His expression was suddenly deadly serious. “I’m not – I mean I don’t normally …” He trailed off and exhaled. “I’m not gay.”

“No, I know,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just that there must be at least a little attraction to men if you could do what you did last night.”

He shook his head and continued eating. “No,” he said flatly. “I was just horny, that’s all.”

“Okay. I didn’t mean to imply that I thought … Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” He sipped his tea and started on a third slice, putting one foot up on an empty chair. “So, you and Ollie are pretty serious, huh?”

“I think so, yeah. I hope so.”

“Humph. I never thought he’d find anyone he clicked with so well.” He looked at me again and gave me a tight little smile. “Congratulations.”

“Um, thank you.”

He looked away again. “He said he loves you yet?”

My stomach dropped. For a moment I wondered if James had heard us last night before he’d knocked on the door, had heard my ‘I love you’ and the rather embarrassing silence that followed. “No, he hasn’t. And I haven’t either, so …”

“Humph,” he grunted again. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. “What did he say about last night? Did he enjoy it?”

“Yeah. What, you couldn’t tell?”

He looked at me again. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the way he was staring at you while you were having sex with me, the way he touched you. You didn’t notice any of that?”

“Nope. _You_ noticed it well enough, though.”

I’m not sure what that meant. I suddenly had the impression he and I were sparring and I couldn’t figure out why, or how to win.

“Well, I wasn’t three sheets to the wind, now was I?” I pointed out.

His chewing slowed down a bit, and he regarded me almost as though he was sizing up an opponent. His eyes seemed to get stuck on the sweatpants I was wearing.

“I thought you were staying the weekend,” he said.

“I am.”

“Didn’t bring your own clothes then?”

I glanced down at my legs, then back up at him, frowning slightly. I watched a sly smile spread across his lips.

“Just asking,” he said conversationally. He then gestured at the pizza box and said, “Feel free to have the rest. And thanks for the tea, mate.” He raised his cup to me as he stood, winked and strode out of the kitchen. I sat there, watching him walk away, wondering what the hell had just happened.

I made a cup for Oliver and brought it and mine upstairs to his room. I shut the door with my foot as quietly as I could and went and set his cup down on the nightstand on his side. He opened his eyes then and smiled up at me. “Good morning, you.”

“Morning,” I replied, going round to my side and getting back in bed beside him.

He yawned and sat up, reached over for his cup, then leaned toward me and kissed me. “You didn’t have to,” he said, indicating his cup. “Thank you.”

“It’s all right. I was up anyway,” I shrugged. “Um, I ran into James downstairs. I don’t think he’s over whatever his problem was.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, I’m not sure. He was just acting oddly. It wasn’t as bad as it’s been, but he was a bit chilly to me, you know?”

“It’s probably nothing. He’s probably just cranky and dehydrated this morning.”

“He wasn’t cranky. And he didn’t seem to be hungover, either. Said he felt fine.”

“You shouldn’t worry about it so much. I love him, but he can be a bit of a brat sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure. It’s not you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Well, of course I’m worried. He’s the most important person in the world to you, and you’re … the most important person in the world to me.”

He looked at me with those big, soft doe eyes and smiled. “He likes you. He must’ve proved that to you last night.”

“Oh, that was just sex. That doesn’t mean anything. And he was drunk.”

“Well, that’s true. But still, he wouldn’t have done that with you if he didn’t like you.”

“Okay.” I was starting to wonder if it was all in my head. Maybe I was just creating problems where none existed because I was incapable of having a normal, healthy relationship with anyone. Maybe I just needed the drama. Well, I was determined not to sabotage this relationship. I’d just have to try harder not to take things personally. It was just James. He’s playful, I told myself. He doesn’t mean anything by it. It just means he likes me.

 

* * *

Later on, in the late afternoon, Oliver and I arrived back home with many shopping bags in hand. We were all giggles when we stumbled in through the front door. James, however, did not look at all amused when he came to greet us. I instantly tensed up.

“Hello, Sleeping Beauty,” said Oliver as he removed his shoes. “Finally up for good then?”

“Yes, I’m finally up for good,” replied James in a mocking tone. “Where’d you go?”

“Out shopping. We’re allowed, aren’t we?” asked Oliver with a smile that quickly faded when he realised how deadly serious James seemed to be. “What?”

“Didn’t think I might like to come along?”

“You’d passed out again. We didn’t want to wake you.”

 _“We,_ huh?” said James, glancing at me.

“Uh, we have something for you,” I piped up, taking a cautious step toward James, smiling hopefully. “We got stuff for dinner tonight, including some wine, and you’re more than welcome to join us.”

He eyed me coldly. “Yeah?”

“Sure! And – wait, where is it?” I set my bags down and went rummaging through them, trying to find one in particular. “Ah! Here it is.” I straightened up and handed him a large, black shopping bag. He took it, clearly sceptical of me and everything I stood for. I stepped back to stand close to Oliver, watching James nervously. He was a loose cannon, an unknown variable. I had no idea what he was going to do.

James reached inside the shopping bag and pulled out a large, sturdy, leather messenger bag, its manufacturer’s name and symbol stamped into the front. He let the shopping bag drop as he examined the gift, then he looked up at us, still frowning a bit. “You bought this for me?” he asked me.

“We both did,” I corrected him. “We just happened to go by that store and the bag was in the window, and Ollie mentioned how much you’d admired it before, so …”

His expression finally began to soften. “Well, thank you,” he said humbly. He stepped toward me, leaned over and gave me a loose, one-armed hug. “You really shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to,” I said honestly. How could he possibly hate me now?

He let me go and looked at his twin. “Thank you,” he said with a soft smile. A soft, intimate smile, one meant for Oliver alone. I felt the overwhelming urge to look away, as though this was their moment, which annoyed me a bit, to be honest. I was still in the room, after all, and that gift was from me, too.

“You’re welcome,” said Oliver. “Come. We’ll show you what else we got.”

 

* * *

James protested about joining us for dinner, but I insisted. And when he saw we had steaks, there was no way he could resist. Throughout dinner, we worked our way through one bottle of red wine, and then cracked open the second after we’d eaten. We brought the bottle out to the living room when I cuddled up with Oliver on the sofa. James opted for the floor before us, leaning back against the coffee table, long legs stuck straight out in front of him, partially underneath the sofa.

“Seriously, though,” said James, gesturing with the hand that was holding his wine glass, making the liquid slosh about inside dangerously. “You two probably want to be alone. It’s getting late.”

“Funny. You had no such qualms last night,” Oliver pointed out.

“Oh, shut up. You loved it and you know it.”

“Well, it was fun,” Oliver admitted, giving me a squeeze and a little kiss on my hair. And James looked away, turned his face downward to examine the rug. I decided it was my imagination, convinced myself something intensely interesting had just transpired down there.

“I-I really enjoyed being with you, James,” I stammered. He looked up at me again, his face blank for a moment. Then he smiled, as friendly and inviting as ever.

“And I, you,” he nodded. “You’re a real sweety.”

I felt myself start to blush. I looked away from him shyly for a moment, but forced myself to look back at him a moment later. “What is the deal with you anyway?” I asked, smiling.

“What?” he asked.

“Well, I mean if you’re not, you know, gay, you must be bi then, right?”

I half-expected the same chilly reception that topic had gotten that morning, but to my surprise, he chuckled. “Does it matter?”

I looked at Oliver. “Seriously, you two have never had this conversation?”

Oliver shrugged. “Never seemed important, I guess.”

James set his glass down and got up on his knees. “You wanna know what I am?” he asked as he crawled toward me. “I’ll bloody well show you what I am.” He got hold of my legs and began to pull them off the sofa, trying to make me sit upright.

“Wait a minute,” I laughed. “James don’t – Watch my wine! You’re going to make me spill it!”

“Shush,” he ordered as his nimble fingers started working on the button of my jeans. I looked over at Oliver, who seemed to have made himself all comfy for the show.

“You okay with this?” he asked me, his voice low.

“Er …” I looked back down. James had gotten my jeans open and was reaching inside my knickers. “I’m not sure I’ve got much choice.”

“You don’t,” said James. He pulled out my flaccid cock, which was already starting to awaken, and began working it with his hand. “Did you two fuck today? While I was asleep?” he asked, staring up into my eyes.

“Yeah,” I replied with slight breathiness in my voice as his touch began to work its magic.

“How many times?” he asked.

“Once. Well, twice. Once for each of us.”

“Yeah? So, you fucked each other then.”

“Mm-hm.” I downed the rest of my wine, and Oliver graciously took the glass from me.

“Did you shower together?” James asked.

“Yeah.” My dick was plenty hard now, and James was stroking expertly, fingers bumping over the sensitive ridge of the head. He maintained eye contact with me the whole time. I wondered why he was asking these questions, thought he was being a bit nosy, actually. But Oliver didn’t seem to mind, so …

“Did you fool around after you showered?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“Yeah? Did he suck you?” His voice was barely above a whisper now, but I could hear him clear as a bell.

“Yes,” I breathed. And at that, James’s eyelids grew heavy and his tongue slid out and began to lick around my head, tasting my slit. I sucked air in through clenched teeth as I watched myself disappear into his mouth, as I felt his warm, wetness clamp down on me. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back and just enjoyed it.

Moments later, Oliver slid closer to me and began kissing me deeply. “Wanna take him upstairs?” he whispered when the kiss broke.

“Do you?” I asked.

“If you do, yeah.”

“Okay.” I looked away then, down at James’s bobbing head and saw that Oliver had his hand on James’s hair, was gently petting James as James sucked me off.

James soon raised his head and grinned languidly at his brother. “Why don’t you join me?” he said. “Come on, get down here. He’s your boyfriend and I’m doing all the work.”

Oliver laughed at that and slid down to the floor next to his brother. James moved over a bit to make room before me, and they worked together to pull my jeans and knickers off. I spread my legs apart as far as they’d go to accommodate them both, and they went straight to work, licking my shaft and my balls, casting little glances at each other and grinning mischievously when their tongues and mouths occasionally met.

In the end it was James who sucked me to completion while Oliver held my balls in his mouth, sucking them as he watched his brother. I didn’t expect James to swallow, but he did, quite eagerly. And as he raised his head, letting me slowly slip from between his lips, he locked eyes with me, his gaze smouldering. It was supposed to be sexy, but it felt almost like a challenge.

Upstairs, on Oliver’s bed, we kissed and touched as we undressed each other. I watched as James helped Oliver out of his shirt, as Oliver’s fingertips ran down James’s chest, grazing his nipple, making James gasp and his chest heave. I noticed how mesmerised by this display of arousal Oliver seemed to be, and how he quickly caught himself and turned his face toward me again.

We laid James down and began to play with him, petting and rubbing, pinching and tweaking. I kept waiting for Oliver’s hand to stop dilly-dallying around James’s stomach and just go all the way down to his dick. It never did, though it seemed to want to, the fingers treading along the edge of James’s pubic hair, even moving down a bit to caress along the inner thigh, but steering very clear of the actual penis. I wondered why that was. He’d touched James there before.

Finally, Oliver’s hand took hold of mine and pulled it down to James’s erection, carefully, almost gingerly, wrapping my fingers round it. I looked down and watched my hand begin to stroke James, then I looked up into Oliver’s eyes. He stared back at me sheepishly.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m just wondering why you didn’t just” –

“Ohhhh, god,” James moaned, thrusting his hips upward, pushing into my hand. I didn’t bother trying to repeat what I’d been about to ask. It wasn’t the time. I stared at him, at his face, his closed eyes, his parted lips, his arched neck, the way his skin coloured with a soft, rosy blush as his arousal escalated, as his breathing quickened, as his cock pulsed in my hand.

Then I looked across at Oliver, who was petting James’s chest, lightly brushing his nipples. He looked at me as well. I could see his connection to his brother. I could see the same rosy glow tinting the entire surface of his skin. I’d seen a look in his eyes, something almost longing, as he’d gazed down at his twin, and it was still there as he looked at me now, but it wasn’t directed at me. It was something that, to me, looked faraway and unreachable.

I felt that twinge of jealousy in my chest. They were connected. I was just an observer.

I couldn’t look at him anymore. I sat up and lowered my face to James’s prick, popped the head into my mouth and began to devour it. I felt an overwhelming need to connect to James, make it seem as though he and I really clicked. Somewhere in my twisted brain, I thought maybe that would make Oliver suddenly realise how right for him I was. I knew how insane that was even as my mouth and tongue glided over James’s erection. But still somehow it made sense.

James finally erupted in my mouth, muscles tensing, his groans deep and throaty. I felt his hand on the back of my head, and for a moment I did feel connected to him. I felt as though this was our moment. I wanted to know if Oliver was watching, but I didn’t dare look up to check. That would spoil the illusion, give away the fact that my thoughts weren’t completely on the task.

I drank down everything James gave me, then raised my head. I barely had a chance to look over at their faces before Oliver was upon me, had sat up and moved close, took hold of my head and pulled me in for a deep, probing kiss, his tongue filling my mouth, sweeping around inside, tasting every part of it.

 _Tasting,_ I thought. _No, he couldn’t be …_

“That was so hot,” he moaned into me, guiding me down onto my back. “You and James are so beautiful together.”

“I love doing that for you,” I whispered back. Then I looked over at James, who had rolled onto his side to watch us. “I love being with you, James.” I was kicking myself for selling out this way. I did enjoy being with James, but I was definitely doing this for Oliver’s benefit. I’m not even sure he wanted it that badly. But that unreturned ‘I love you’ stared me in the face every time I looked at him. I figured this couldn’t hurt.

James smiled lazily at me. “I love being with you, too.”

That little bit of praise made my heart sing. Maybe James didn’t dislike me after all. Maybe this could work, the three of us together like this.

 _Or,_ said a niggling little voice in my head, _maybe you’re just in the way._

The wheels in my head were spinning. I tried not to let my distraction show on my face as Oliver kissed my neck. My face was in plain view of James, and I knew he was watching me.

James rolled toward us and began nipping at my neck as well. All of our legs entwined and our bodies began to move almost in unison, slowly undulating against each other.

“You haven’t …” I whispered to Oliver, pushing my hips up against him, indicating his erection. Both James and I had come already. “Lie down.” I began to nudge him off me, sliding out from under him, placing him in between James and me. James’s hand went immediately to Oliver’s belly and chest, caressing there, and their eyes locked for a moment in a soft, meaningful gaze. Oliver looked away first, turning to focus back to me. I smiled at him, hoping I didn’t look too uneasy. Something was happening between them, and I was going to figure out what.

I began kissing Oliver’s neck and chest, my hand moving down until it found his hard-on. I gently stroked him, teasing, with no intention of making him come just yet. And I watched the twins. James was watching my hand work his brother’s erection, blatantly staring, his own hand languidly petting Oliver’s stomach. Oliver was trying not to look at his twin. Instead he turned his face toward me, often burying it against my chest.

“Want us to put on a little show for you?” I asked him. He looked up at me, something almost impish in his expression as he smiled at me.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “I’ve asked too much of you already.”

“I told you I like doing this for you.” I looked at James. He looked at me. I beckoned him closer. We leaned in, over Oliver, and began to kiss. I didn’t check to see if Oliver was watching. I knew he must be. Instead I concentrated on discreetly removing my hand from his prick, spider-walking my hand up his belly to find James’s hand, taking hold of it and bringing it slowly down, pressing it flat to Oliver’s bed of pubic hair, making James feel that, making Oliver feel James feeling that, then finally wrapping James’s fingers around his brother’s cock.

I pulled away then and just watched. James looked uncertainly down at what he was holding, and Oliver stared up at him, nervous energy just wafting off both of them. I stroked Oliver’s hair and waited. The choice was theirs. What would they do?

James’s hand began to move gingerly up and down. “This is too weird, isn’t it?” he said with a nervous little chuckle.

“Maybe,” replied Oliver. His eyes were glued to James’s face now.

“Should I stop?”

“Do you want to stop?”

James couldn’t seem to answer. He stared into his brother’s eyes, gently stroking his length, mouth hanging slightly open as though he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. I suddenly regretted my decision to test them this way. I was feeling very much like I wasn’t even in the room with them anymore.

And yet, I was fascinated. I’d never been involved in anything like this and was surprised at how sexy I found it. There was a dull ache in my heart as I watched that ever-present connection between them manifest in that intense gaze of theirs. I longed to be the one Oliver looked at that way, but still I couldn’t turn away. How far would they go? I had to know.

Both sets of big, brown eyes slid shut as James brought his mouth down to his brother’s. Their pursed lips latched onto each other in a soft kiss that quickly deepened, their mouths opening wide, tongues venturing forth. James’s hand slid down to massage Oliver’s balls. I think his fingers found a particularly sensitive spot between Oliver’s thighs, because Oliver arched off the bed for a moment, his legs parting more, and he gasped, drawing a breath straight out of James’s mouth. It was then, I think, that Oliver really stopped holding back. He brought a hand up to touch James’s waist, to pull him closer and, to the surprise of both me and James, he flipped James over onto his back and straddled him. With his crotch pressed to James’s, he finally broke the kiss and looked down at James. There seemed to be a question in each twin’s eyes, and I had a pretty good idea what that question was.

“Do you want to?” whispered Oliver.

James swallowed hard. I wondered what was going through his head as he lay there; all the many consequences of fucking his brother, no doubt. I wondered if they’d gone all the way before. I wondered if they remembered I was lying there next to them.

Finally James answered, giving a tiny little nod. Oliver moved immediately to reach for the things he needed from the nightstand, but I was a step ahead. My own heart pounding in my ears, I reached back and retrieved a condom from the box and the little bottle of lubricant and handed them to him. Our eyes met as he took them from me. I’d like to say I saw something in his eyes that indicated he was thinking of me, but all I saw there was desire, and it sure as hell wasn’t directed at me.

He sat up on his knees and was about to tear the condom open when he and James locked eyes again. Everything seemed to stop, and there was that question-filled look again. I wondered what it was this time. Second thoughts about what they were about to do? James’s eyes suddenly darted down to the condom, and I understood; they were wondering if they really needed to use protection with each other.

My heart seemed to cringe. Did they trust each other that much? Was that a level of trust I could ever achieve with Oliver?

In the end, Oliver gave a minute little shrug and tore the wrapper open. I almost sighed with relief. When they finally began, I wanted to be disgusted. I wanted to be so turned off by the whole thing that I could just pack up and walk out the door and never look back. That wasn’t the case, however, as I watched James pull his strong legs back, watched Oliver, his long body stretched out over his twin, position the head of his prick and start to ease inside the tiny opening, as I watched James’s face scrunch up in discomfort, as I watched Oliver brace himself on his hands, spread his knees wide and begin to thrust. I wasn’t disgusted at all. As the discomfort seemed to give way to pleasure for James, both he and Oliver arched their necks and groaned wordlessly, eyes closed, and there was nothing disgusting about it.

Oliver lowered himself to lie flat on his brother, upper body now flush with James’s, as he began to pump faster. He kissed his brother’s face, from his cheek down to his mouth, muffling James’s increasingly loud moans. As James’s hands slid from Oliver’s back to his bottom, gripping and caressing there, it occurred to me that James didn’t seem to be new to this, to being the bottom. He seemed quite comfortable, in fact. Or maybe it was my imagination. Maybe he just seemed comfortable because he hid his nervousness well. Either way, Oliver was now riding him hard, and he sure seemed to be enjoying himself.

Oliver buried his face in James’s neck, muffling his own grunts against James’s skin, and James turned his face toward me, slowly opened his eyes to look into mine. For a moment, he looked very much like Ollie when he was aroused; those sleepy eyes, the slightly curled upper lip. He held my gaze for several seconds as my boyfriend fucked him. I wanted to look away, but I refused to. This felt like another challenge. Then something that was almost a smile began to stretch his lips, starting at the left corner and working its way across. For a moment I thought he was laughing at me, telling me in his cruel, silent way that Oliver would never be mine. But then his eyes rolled up into his head and he reached for me, outstretching his arm to grab onto my hand. I gave it to him right away, goggling at him in amazement.

“Ah … ah, ah, ahh, yeah, right there!” he cried, squeezing my hand tight. I realised that Oliver was thrusting at a slightly different angle now and was probably hitting that special place deep inside his brother. James’s free hand slapped itself smack in the middle of Oliver’s sweaty back and remained there for the rest of the ride. He seemed to be hanging on for his life. “I love you!” he suddenly screamed. “Fuck, I love you so much!”

“I love you, too, Jamie,” Oliver replied, his deep voice a hard, husky growl. I checked out at that point. My mind just wandered away. It’s insane to be jealous when your boyfriend tells his brother that he loves him. Of course he loves him. But these were hardly normal circumstances. James and Oliver weren’t sitting around, having a beer together. They were having sex. And Oliver had just said those three words back to James without missing a beat.

The sharp noises coming from Oliver brought me back and I focused on them again. He was coming. He raised his face from James’s neck and clamped his mouth down over James’s as his groans became hard and almost dangerous sounding. His thrusts slowed, his thigh and butt muscles tensing as he pushed his cock deep inside his brother, pulled out a bit, then pushed in deep again.

James’s grip on my hand loosened a bit, but he held on. Part of me liked that very much. I loved it when Oliver withdrew, discarded his condom and settled next to me, sandwiching me between him and James again, both of them seeming to cradle me. Another part of me was still very uneasy and considered James to be a very big threat, though I also thought this was quite silly. They’re brothers, I told myself. How big a threat could a guy’s brother possibly be?

 

* * *

James didn’t go to his own room that night. He stayed with us, spooned up behind me. I drifted off quite easily, feeling safe and desired and almost content sandwiched between them, and I slept soundly until the wine from earlier worked its way through me. I awoke in the middle of the night with a very full bladder. I sat up carefully, trying not to wake them, and slid out from between them, down to the foot of the bed, stood and quietly left the room.

When I returned, I was all set to slide back into my spot, but found that was no longer an option. The twins were now spooned together, James with his back to Oliver’s front, Oliver’s arm over him, holding him close. I stood there blinking at them in the dark, trying to figure out who had moved closer. There seemed to be an equal amount of space on either side of them, so it must have been a joint effort. Neither one seemed to be even a little bit awake.

I went around to Oliver’s side and slid in behind him, pressing against him, resting my cheek against his back. I couldn’t see past his shoulders. It was as if I was alone back there.

 

* * *

That familiar sad, gray light woke me hours later. The twins hadn’t moved much. They were still spooned together, their backs to me. I didn’t hesitate to get up, pull on a pair of my own pyjama pants and quietly head for the door.

“Hey,” a soft, groggy voice called to me. I turned back to see Oliver sitting up, squinting tiredly at me. “Where you goin’?”

“Oh, um, just downstairs. For tea. I’m not that tired anymore.”

“Hang on.” He got out of bed without waking James, found his dressing gown on a hook in his closet and ushered me from the room, into the hall, as he wrapped it around himself. “How are you this morning?” he asked after he’d closed the door behind us. He stepped closer and took me in his arms.

I hugged him gratefully, mashing my face against his chest. “I’m okay. You?”

“I’m all right. I was just wondering how you were … you know, after last night.”

“Oh.” I looked up at him. “You’ve fucked him before, haven’t you?” It really wasn’t a question; more of an observation.

He gave a little shrug and didn’t meet my eyes as he replied, “Yes. But just once.”

“Really?”

He hesitated, then said, “Well, twice. But it was at least a couple of years ago now, and we never did it again. I swear. It felt too wrong. We felt too guilty.”

I sighed. “Ollie, you don’t have to lie to me about it.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just so odd being able to talk to someone about it. I’m not used to that.”

“I understand. Listen, about you and James” –

“Here we go,” he said with a heavy exhalation, eyes going toward the ceiling.

“What?”

“This is the part where you tell me that James and I are too close and it’s making you uncomfortable, right?”

“Er, well, sort of. Ol, have you had this conversation with someone before?”

He shrugged. “Maybe a few people, yeah.”

“A few, huh?” I took some comfort in that. Maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe it was him. “Well, Oliver, if you keep having this conversation with people you date, maybe it’s time to examine” –

“Ollie?” came a voice from inside the room. “Is that you out there?” I rolled my eyes.

“Ignore him,” said Oliver. “I’m sure he’s fine. Now, you were saying? I need to examine my relationship with my brother? Something to that effect?”

“Well, yes. I mean if your romantic relationships keep falling apart because of” –

“Ollie!” James whined. “What are you doing?”

“I am _trying_ to have a conversation!” Oliver yelled back.

“I need to talk to you!”

Oliver closed his eyes for a moment.

“You want to go to him,” I said.

“No, I want to stay here and talk this out. You think we’re falling apart?”

“Well, I don’t know. I must admit I’ve been having some doubts about how much of your heart you can really give me since you got back from America.”

“Really?” He cocked his head and frowned. “Why?”

“Because of … well, because of …”

“James?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Baby, that’s ridiculous. He’s my brother.”

“Well, yeah, but” –

The door flew open and there was James, naked and staring from Oliver to me, then back again. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said innocently. “I need to talk to you for a moment, if that’s okay.”

“I’m kind of in the middle of something here,” Oliver informed him.

“Forget it,” I said, pulling away. “We can talk later.”

“No, wait” –

“I’ll be downstairs.” I would’ve ignored any further protests from him, but none came. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t bear to see him not following me, choosing instead to go with his brother back into the bedroom.

 

* * *

The kettle whistled and my eyes went to the kitchen doorway. It was empty. James had not come down to join me this time. I wondered what he’d needed to talk to his brother about so badly. I wondered if he’d needed to talk about anything at all, or if this was just another power play.

I made my tea, my thoughts heavy and troubling. Everything had seemed fine before the twins had gone away to America. They’d come back and James had suddenly seemed to blame me for something. But what? The only thing that even remotely made sense was that he was somehow jealous of my relationship with his brother. Could that be? Was he jealous of Oliver for having someone?

I frowned as something dawned on me: was he jealous of Oliver … or was he jealous of _me?_

 _“I never thought he’d find anyone he clicked with so well,”_ he’d said to me in the kitchen the day before, with that odd, tight little smile as he’d added, _“Congratulations.”_

 _Well, that’s just silly,_ I thought. It was just James being James. That’s what Oliver had said. He would know, having lived with James forever. James was moody and unpredictable. Case closed.

I sipped my tea and continued to think too much, my mind rewinding back to the night before, to the sex, to the ravenousness of Oliver’s kiss after I’d taken his brother’s semen into my mouth, the way his tongue had licked so hungrily …

 _“We can do it again if you want,”_ he’d offered casually after that first night with James. Too casually, in fact, like he was trying to make it seem as though he didn’t care one way or the other. But he did care. That much was obvious. The way his hand wouldn’t cross the line of James’s pubic hair to touch his dick as though afraid to, the way he’d placed my hand on James instead, so gentle, in an almost loving fashion.

 _The way_ he’d _liked to have touched James,_ said that annoying voice in my head. I argued with it, told the voice it was being ridiculous. Oliver had touched James there before, had unfastened James’s jeans and put a condom on him.

But I remembered the state James had been in that first night; in absolutely no condition to operate his own zipper, let alone a condom. Oliver had acted then because somebody had had to.

 _So, what?_ I asked the voice. _Oliver only touched his brother that first night because he’d had a clear-cut task to accomplish, and didn’t last night because it would only have been his own desires he’d be fulfilling?_

 _Exactly._

 _And what’s that prove?_

 _He didn’t want you to know. He was afraid to touch because he thought he might lose control and show you too much, show you what he really wants._

 _Then what about the sex last night?_ I asked the voice. _He and James had actual sex right in front of me and it wasn’t a big deal._

 _Wasn’t it?_ said the voice. _Seemed all too eager to fuck each other, didn’t they? And as I recall, you placed James’s hand on Oliver last night._ You _gave them permission to do what they’ve been wanting to do since the last time they did it. I’ll bet that tiny little gesture of yours absolved both of them of any guilt feelings they had, made it okay to start it all up again. You’ve opened up the floodgates now, baby. And now you’ve gone and left them all alone together upstairs in Oliver’s bedroom._

I don’t remember standing up or racing from the kitchen, but I did. I vaguely remember the sound of the tea cup hitting the floor and shattering behind me as I sped away, back to the stairs and up to the bedroom. I don’t remember that journey well at all, but somehow I found myself standing outside Oliver’s door, hand poised to turn the doorknob and burst in, demand some answers. But I stopped right there, unable to touch the doorknob, and instead listened to the voices coming from inside.

“James, come on” –

“It’s okay. He’s downstairs.”

“He could be back any second. And I’m dating him, remember? I can’t just” –

“Shhh. Don’t talk.”

“We _need_ to talk. Why now, James, huh? When I’ve gone and found someone, why now?”

A pause, and then, “Maybe I’ve finally realised what I truly want.”

“You had years to figure that out. You just want what you can’t have.”

“Oliver, please don’t be upset. I love you.”

Another pause, a slightly longer one this time. Then Oliver spoke, his voice soft and breathy with emotion and need: “I love you, too. I’ve always loved you this way.”

A soft moan. The rustle of sheets. The smack of lips. The breaking of my heart. _“This way”?_ I thought. _Oh, god …_

I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. It was James on top. I could tell by the closely cropped hair. Their lower halves were covered by sheets, but it was clear that James’s hips were moving, rubbing his crotch against his brother’s as they kissed.

“He does have you, Oliver,” I heard myself say. They were apart and staring at me in shock in a split second. Oliver looked regretful. James regarded me with mild interest, as though I was a science experiment.

Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but I held up my hand to stop him. “Don’t,” I said. “You don’t have to. It’s okay. I understand now.”

“No,” he said, throwing the covers off himself and quickly closing his dressing gown as he approached me. “No, you don’t understand.”

“You two are in love with each other,” I said simply, rather more calmly than I felt, staring up into his face. “You were just fucking each other by proxy that first night, weren’t you? Then last night I gave you both permission to go at each other and now … You were using me to make it okay to be with him.”

“That’s not what I intended.”

“But it’s true, right?”

He stared sadly into my eyes, seemingly trying to find an answer that wouldn’t sound horrible. I guess he failed, because he remained silent and looked down at the floor.

I looked over at James, said to him, “That’s why you showed up at Oliver’s door the night before last. You were jealous of me and wanted to get in on the fun, right, James? You realised in America that Oliver and I might be getting serious and you didn’t like that. That’s why you were so rude to me when you came back.”

He held my gaze for longer than Oliver had been able to, but eventually looked away, too. For some reason this just disgusted and angered me.

“You said James only wants what he can’t have,” I said to Oliver as he cast little timid glances at me. “Well, you were wrong. James does have you. He’s always had you, from day one. I can see that now. I was never gonna get in there, was I?” I asked, giving him a hard poke in his chest, right over his heart.

“That’s not true,” he insisted weakly.

“Oh, bullshit!” I said loudly, making him wince. “I don’t know when it started, but I’m pretty _damn_ sure it started long before I came along. What, were you just using me to try to get over him?”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? Because it’s true? Because the truth hurts you? Because you hate the fact that you’re in love with your twin and were using an innocent person to try to correct that?”

“Hey!” This was James. He’d stood up and was coming over, glaring at me, holding a sheet round his waist. “Don’t talk to him like that!”

“It’s okay,” said Oliver quietly. “Thank you, but it’s okay. I deserve this.”

“But” –

“Shut up, James,” Oliver demanded with soft forcefulness. He looked at me again and said, “I thought this would work. You and I seemed so compatible. I … I hoped that you” –

– “would be the answer,” I said softly, finishing his sentence. He lowered his gaze again, nodding in agreement. “He’s the answer, Oliver. James is. I’m just a distraction.”

“He wouldn’t …” Oliver began. “He couldn’t seem to …”

I had an inkling of what he was trying to say. I glanced at James again with a hard stare that I ended up softening a bit as I considered their dilemma. “Maybe he never will,” I said. How could I blame James for being afraid to just give into his feelings for his brother? It made sense that he was afraid. This, what they wanted, was incest. Plain and simple. It would’ve frightened me, too. “But neither will I,” I informed Oliver gently, feeling my eyes start to sting.

He looked at me again and looked a bit uneasy, almost as though he wanted to move toward me, hold me, comfort me somehow. I held up a hand and shook my head. I wouldn’t be able to keep it together if he embraced me.

“I can’t be your fix,” I said, my voice breaking. I took a deep breath, trying to keep everything down for just a few seconds longer. “I’m sorry. I hope you two are very happy together.”

I quickly gathered my things from around the room, stuffing them into my bag and then going for the door. James pulled the covers up around his chest, folding his arms and shuffling his feet, not looking at me. Oliver watched me sadly nearly the entire time.

I was on my way out, but something made me stop. I turned and looked over my shoulder at Oliver, into those deep brown eyes. In my mind I could see him smile, see the telltale crinkling at the corners of his eyes, I could feel him on me, the weight of him, the heat from his body, I could feel him inside me, I could hear him …

“I really do love you, you know,” I said, almost whispered. And before he could say anything else, before I could cry in front of him, I left, hurried down the stairs, grabbed my shoes at the front door, dashed outside, across the lawn, to my car, barefoot and shirtless, leaving the front door open, desperate to get away in case he came after me.

 

 ****

Epilogue: The Open Door

Oliver slowly shut the front door. He stood there for a moment, his hand pressed flat against it, his eyes downcast. _I should go after him,_ he thought. _I should get in the car and go after him. I could love him. He could be someone really special to me._

But then he turned and there was James, standing at the foot of the stairs, wearing the jeans he’d discarded the night before, zipped up, but not buttoned, watching Oliver curiously. And all thoughts of leaving the house floated away from Oliver’s mind.

“I didn’t mean to drive him away,” said James.

“You didn’t drive him away. I did. And it’s fine. He needed to know what I really am. I was too chicken to tell him.” He paused and gave James a lopsided smile. “You were kind of a jerk, though.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that you were spending all your time with him, and when we went to the US we had all this time alone together, you know, but then we get back and guess who’s bloody well waiting at the fucking airport for us, and I was just so pissed off because I knew I was losing you, and” –

“James, James, stop,” Oliver hushed him, walking over to him. “You were never gonna lose me. How could you think that?”

James lowered his eyes and shook his head. “It sounds stupid now, but then … I got a bit scared, I guess. I wanted to like him really, but I just … I dunno what I was doing.”

Oliver wrapped his arms around James and pulled him close, holding him tight. “You could never lose me,” he whispered. “I’m always gonna be yours, okay? You come first.”

James slowly snaked his arms around Oliver’s torso, savouring the feeling of him, rubbing his back. “Did you tell him you love him?” he asked suddenly.

“Couldn’t,” Oliver admitted regretfully. “I wanted to. I thought we really could’ve had something, but … I just couldn’t.”

James loosened his grip enough to pull back and look into his brother’s eyes. “I’m glad.”

“Really? Because you want me to be alone and miserable forever so I can keep you company?” Oliver asked with a smile.

“Well, yes,” James replied, shrugging. “But … you don’t have to be alone and miserable. ’Less you wanna be. Whatever floats your boat.”

They both chuckled softly, pressing their foreheads together, then rubbing their noses, and finally pressing their lips in a soft kiss. They nipped and licked at each other’s mouths, their breathing quickly gaining speed, until James said breathily into his twin’s mouth, “I think we’ve reopened a door here.”

They both opened their eyes and stared at each other.

“I think we have,” agreed Oliver. “What do you want to do about that?”

James bit his bottom lip, his eyes locked with his brother’s as he considered his answer. “If he calls you again,” he said, “what will you do?”

“That kind of depends on how you answer my question,” said Oliver.

James nodded. “All right then,” he whispered. And without another word he stepped back, grasped Oliver’s hand, took him back upstairs to the bedroom, and led him through the door.

END


End file.
